


Love Sick

by Zevla (Acailura)



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Bri's a mess, I'm starting to seriously like writing Queen fics, Kato (WritersCoven) gave me EXPLICIT permission to write this!, M/M, Maylor - Freeform, More of that inside!, Re-write, Sickfic, Tw: Emeto Warning, uni days, will update tags accordingly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:26:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23210167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acailura/pseuds/Zevla
Summary: Brian's sick, and the last place he needs to be is in the middle of lecture. All he wants is his loving boyfriend.Luckily for him, Roger Taylor never much cared for his own classes, and all that matters to him is his poor, miserable poodle.A Maylor sickfic
Relationships: Brian May/Roger Taylor
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	Love Sick

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Love Sick](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19839058) by [Kato (WritersCoven)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritersCoven/pseuds/Kato). 



> **Important! Allow me to preface this work with the following: Kato (of WritersCoven) has granted me EXPLICIT permission to do a rewrite of this fic (as well as a few others of her works)! This decision follows her quitting the site, but still wanting to see some of her works completed.**   
>  **I'm a huge fan of and great friends with Kato, and I'm very eager to take on this challenge. I hope y'all enjoy it as much as you enjoyed Kato's! This fic is still up, unlike the other WIP I took over for her (so far), so I've included the link to it on here ^-^**   
>  **With that said, I hope you enjoy and look forward to finishing this for everyone!**

Lecture was dragging on and on, slow and boring as ever. Brian was trying to pay attention and take notes, but it felt like everything his professor said went in one ear and back out the other. He was far too distracted by the upset stomach gurgling inside of him. He took a careful sip from his cup of coffee-- knowing full-well that he should have avoided the irritant but also needing something to try and stay awake-- and squinted ahead at his professor. 

His hand absently tapped against his textbook. His stomach was doing backflips inside of him, writhing around with ominous intentions. His head pounded against his skull, a dull but persistent throb that did little for him or his increasingly upset stomach. 

He took another sip of his warm coffee, wondering what Roger might be up to. The blond was supposed to be in a class of his own, but it wouldn’t have surprised Brian in the slightest to find out that his boyfriend cut class. He tugged a gentle arm around his stomach and wondered why he hadn’t stayed home himself. 

That answer, of course, was easy. Brian wasn’t the type of person to skip class, whether he was sick or otherwise. The spaced-out, fuzzy tickle in his brain and the mild ache in his abdomen when he first got up that morning hardly constituted as something to stay home over. He had taken some medicine to relieve his symptoms and gone ahead to class just as he would on any other day. 

Now nursing what was quickly trying to become a borderline migraine, with his stomach threatening to rise up his throat at any moment, he was starting to really regret that decision. He felt a sharp spasm of cramps overtake his abdomen and sat up, muscles tensed and ready to brace against the pain. It felt like how Brian imagined it would feel to be stabbed with a hot knife. It subsided after an agonizing moment, leaving him with only a warm spread of hot nausea that left anxious sweat prickling his skin. His body was anticipating what was about to happen, whether Brian was ready for it or not. 

Nausea didn’t bother Brian that much. He didn’t like the feeling (after all, who in their right minds did?) or the increasing level of discomfort it brought with it, but he managed it well enough whenever it occurred. He also didn’t really have much of an issue with vomiting, although that was no picnic, either. Brian wasn’t very easily bothered by either of them, but he _was_ bothered by the idea of being sick out in public. He hated the embarrassment of the whole ordeal. He hated knowing that everyone who saw him would be judging him. 

He also hated that warm, sickly bubble building up in his throat, threatening to explode in a vile and humiliating mess any minute. He took a sharp breath and sat forward, trying to pressure the ailing area. It didn’t help any, and he felt his face beginning to flush hot with an intense wave of nausea. 

He covered the gag with the lid of his cup. His stomach flipped and his mouth felt flooded with thick, warm saliva that was tentatively washed away with a cautious sip of coffee. He slowly tried to gather his stuff together, hoping to quietly leave before anything happened, but his stomach gave a quick lurch and a wave of liquid heat clogged his throat. 

His cheeks burned cherry red as the realization hit him that he had been sick in the middle of lecture, right on the shoes of a poor, and rather pretty (if you were into that sort of thing), classmate. She was reasonably disgusted and he was utterly horrified. In the beat of shocked silence that followed, he grabbed up his stuff and left the lecture entirely. His stomach was still flip-flopping, and his head was fuzzy and out of focus. He needed to call Roger-- somehow at least, considering he had no idea where he would call even _if_ the blond was actually in class-- and he needed to just go home. He needed to stop moving, too, because all the motion was doing him no favors. He slipped into a small phone booth and grabbed for the phone, slipping in a coin to use it. He didn’t have a way to get a hold of his boyfriend, but Freddie and Deaky were both supposed to be at the flat still. One of them would hopefully pick up. He dialed the number and held his breath, waiting as it rang. He started to worry that maybe nobody was going to answer after all, so when Freddie’s voice came across the line he could have sobbed with relief. 

“Hello?” 

“Oh, God, Fred, I’m so happy to hear your voice.” 

“Brian? Shouldn’t you be in class, love?” 

“I’m sick,” he responded. He was too nauseous to care if it came out as a whine. “Where’s Rog?” 

“He went to class, too. Do you need someone to come get you, darling?” Freddie’s voice was so soothing and calm, but Brian only wanted his boyfriend. He appreciated Freddie’s attempts to help, but he wasn’t Roger and that’s who Brian needed most. 

He knew that it sounded like a pitiful whimper, but he couldn’t help it. “I really want Rog. I don’t feel very well.” 

“Did you take the bus this morning?” 

“Yeah,” he answered. He always took the bus unless Roger volunteered to drive him. It was just cheaper that way. “Do you know when Roger’s class is supposed to end?” 

“I can try and see if I can get in contact with him, darling. If that’s what you want.” 

“Please,” he begged. 

“Give me a few minutes, love. Then, call back if you can, alright? If I can’t get Rog, I’ll have Deaky get you-- alright?” 

“M’kay,” he sighed. Some of the nausea was abating, and all that remained was a pounding headache and exhaustion. He was shaking, but whether that was out of sickness or exhaustion he wasn’t sure. He leaned against the side of the booth and shut his eyes, counting down the minutes as they passed. His entire body felt heavy. He could hardly even keep himself upright as he waited. 

Not too long after his initial call, heat once again crept up on him, pricking the skin on his neck and flushing his cheeks. Sweat broke out along his forehead and tickled his palms. The nausea was back-- the heat told him even before his stomach realized it. He decided to try and call Freddie back, hoping that the feeling would pass while he was on the phone. 

He waited, eager to go home. He wanted Roger, but he could handle Deaky so long as he didn’t have to get on another busy bus. With his headache, Brian wasn’t even sure that he could handle the noisy bus if he tried. He leaned forward, closed his eyes, and waited. 

* * * * * 

Brian was sitting on the curb, lanky limbs pulled in tightly and head resting on his arm. His textbook-- having been covered in coffee and stomach acid shortly after his time in the phone booth-- sat in a giant trashcan nearby. He would have to buy a new one before his return to class. He wanted to be more stressed out about it-- money was tight enough without having to drop a decent chunk of his earnings on a replacement textbook-- but he couldn’t worry about money when his entire body was rebelling against him. 

An old, worn van was pulling up near his spot on the curb, and a faint tickle of excitement tightened his chest. He scrambled to grab his stuff and stand up, eager to jump in the van as soon as possible. Roger wasn’t even at a complete stop before Brian flung open the door and hopped in. He tried tossing his bag into the back seat, which he failed to manage. Roger took it and dropped it back on the floorboard behind the driver’s seat. 

“How’re you feeling?” he asked as Brian shut the door and settled against the cool window. Cold shivers racked his frame, making his teeth chatter and his body quiver. 

“Can you please turn on the heat? I’m freezing.” 

“Bri, it’s boiling in here,” the blond frowned, reaching out a hand to feel his boyfriend’s forehead. When their skin made contact, Brian leaned into the touch and sighed. 

“Your hand feels good,” he muttered. 

Roger gave his poodle a worried side-glance. “You’re burning up. Why the hell did you even go today?” 

“Felt okay when I got up.” 

“Bet you aren’t feeling all too great right now,” Roger pointed out. 

“Mm,” he hummed. “M’fine.” 

“Quit it,” the blond scolded. “Just once, Bri, admit you aren’t feeling well and let me help you.” 

The ride was far from being smooth, and Brian curled himself up in the seat trying to survive. Roger kept talking, and while Brian tried listening he couldn’t bring his brain to focus on what his boyfriend was actually saying. 

He caught Roger’s promise, though. 

_“You’ll be okay, Bri.”_

**Author's Note:**

> **Whelp. It's by no means as good as Kato's, but I'm trying at least ^-^ Hope to update again soon, depending on time constraints (I just got a new puppy on top of a new work and college-life schedule thanks to Covid-19, so I make no promises for timed updates).**   
>  **Thanks for reading, and I hope you still found it entertaining :)**
> 
> _LATE AUTHOR EDIT NOTE: This work is obviously on hiatus. Reason why, I think readers deserve to know, is that Kato (the original author of this work) and I had a major falling out over a disagreement and don't really talk anymore. Since it's her work originally that I'm simply taking a spin on, I've felt that it's not my place to continue writing while we're in such a rough patch. So sorry to everyone!_


End file.
